guess for-for who?
there is a heat-shimmer of blue over your legs.
in this dawn-greyed room no pain the morning
draws up, jingling birds
the farmers harvesting the fruit of night
in the ashes of the evening, the glasses
frosted at the bottom with dried wine
and tissued sheets drawing us together
our eyes, unblinking planets, drowned by sun.
-copyright 2005 joseph santini
(seems weird putting this after a love poem. but such is the character of the age. little spells of legality, to protect us from the chaos, the darkness.)